


Necessity of Loving

by smallxion



Category: Inside Out (2015), Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: F/F, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Inside Out Au, Parent Death, Parent-Child Relationship, the gems are Steven's emotions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-13
Updated: 2015-07-13
Packaged: 2018-04-09 01:56:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4329363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smallxion/pseuds/smallxion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steven Quartz-Universe is a happy kid. His emotions take good care of him- at least, until his mother's death prompts the appearance of a new entity in his head: Loneliness.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Necessity of Loving

Steven Quartz-Universe was a happy kid. He didn’t cry on the first day of school and when he fell out of a tree and broke his arm, he was laughing about it as soon as he was out of the hospital. He was definitely his mother’s child (as his father would often fondly remark), that was for sure. Seeing the beauty in everything was his specialty. Any given person’s trash was his treasure- he even thought spiders were amazing, muttering something about their graceful, coordinated, “super-cool” legs whenever he was asked why. He was kind, hyper-excitable and, above all, a tireless optimist.

He was ten when his mom died.

*

“I’m just saying I think you should reconsider.” Anxiety’s voice was, as always, a little condescending, like she knew best and that was the end of it.

Happiness scoffed. “You need to relax, Anx,” she drawled, flexing her hands in preparation. “I’m gonna drive, alright? I got this!”

“Steven doesn’t need your recklessness right now,” said Anxiety, her voice quiet and warning. “You know he’s in a vulnerable place, and he doesn’t need you to go confusing him about the way he feels.”

“Dude, seriously, you’re thinking about it all the wrong way,” Happiness insisted. “I mean, I know I can’t make him feel as good as usual, right? I accept that. But he’s sad as it is, and we don’t need to drive that in! If I’m in charge, it’ll take the edge off for him, and isn’t that what we’re all about? Making Steven happy?”

“We’re ‘all about’ keeping Steven safe,” corrected a third voice. Rolling her eyes a little, Happiness glanced in the direction it came from- it was Patience and, of course, she wasn’t alone. Her little blue fingers were intertwined with Fury’s fiery red ones. They may as well have been glued together like that, Happiness thought, because they were never apart. As less prominent emotions of Steven’s, they were fittingly both pretty tiny, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t be largely annoying.

Happiness folded her arms. “Same difference.”

“Look!” Anxiety cried, her voice shaking like a leaf, pointing a slender finger towards the screen on which they monitored Steven’s vision. He was evidently walking down the street in the direction of a certain fast food place.

Turning her head, Happiness sighed. “What now? It’s the Big Donut. Steven loves that place!”

Anxiety leant down and grabbed Happiness by the warm, pudgy shoulders. “You’re not thinking it through, Happiness! It’s a Friday!”

“So?”

“You’re forgetting who has a shift at the Big Donut on Friday afternoons!” Anxiety paused, waiting for a reaction, for anyone to catch on. When nobody did, she groaned. “Lars!” she shrieked. 

Still no reaction, so Anxiety intensified her already-panicked expression. “Lars!” she repeated, and when nobody said a thing, she sighed, shoving her face into her hands. “We don’t like Lars. He’s mean. He’ll make a fool of Steven, oh, I just know it! See, this is why I need to be on controls right now! Clearly, I’m the only one who knows how to recognise a threat!”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Patience said, her voice calm as always, just a hint of venom to it.

Fury was less subtle. “Uh, yeah, Patience has that!” she said, stepping forward. “You trying to say she’s not good at her job or something?”

“What I’m _saying_ is that we’re all putting Steven in too many tricky situations, and yes, Patience should be taking a little more responsibility, especially in light of recent events!”

Fury dropped Patience's hand, clenching her fists and squaring up. “Why, I oughtta-”

“Fury,” Patience whispered. “Don’t. It’s not worth it.”

Reluctantly, Fury listened, taking her place beside Patience again and clasping their hands together. Patience squeezed it tightly as means of comfort, but her eye was fixed in another direction.

“Lars is our friend,” Happiness said, waving her hand in a dismissive manner.

Fury snorted. “Lars is a jerk.”

“He’s our jerky friend,” Happiness amended, her signature lazy grin making a comeback.

“You don’t put enough emphasis on the ‘jerky’ part.” Anxiety had her eyes closed, her nose in the air. Typical.

“I’m still on controls today,” announced Happiness, with a provocative glance towards her taller co-worker.

Anxiety took an angry step that would be more accurately called a stomp, a dangerous twinkle in her eyes. “Not if I get there first.”

“Neither of you got there first,” Patience said quietly. 

Both of them turned their heads immediately. “What?” was said in unison.

Patience nodded towards the control panel.

The vision screen clearly showed Steven was now inside the Big Donut, and sure enough, Lars was behind the counter, but that wasn’t unexpected. What none of them had thought to account for was who was on controls while they were arguing. And of course, it was the only emotion who wasn’t involved: Loneliness.

*

“One double chocolate donut with sprinkles, please,” Steven said, his usual energy dimmed far from its usual explosive state.

As the well-renowned sulkiest teenager in Beach City, Lars wasn’t usually one to let any of his feelings show through his wall of feigned indifference. But the store was empty expect for him and this little kid with his eyes on the ground, and with no witnesses, he had a lot less to lose.

“Uh, hey, Steven. Coming right up.” His voice was softer than usual, and despite his poor work ethic, he got to work on Steven’s order right away, finding the donut within seconds, and in just a few more, it was in a bag. 

Steven looked up, a tiny half-smile crossing his face. “Hi, Lars,” he said, a smidge of his usual warmth back. “Have you heard back from the college?”

Lars blinked, surprised Steven had remembered such a detail. He must have overheard Lars talking to Sadie about his application a few weeks back. He pushed back whatever nervousness arose at the idea of a little kid listening to the stuff he said in confidence to his best friend, and made an attempt at a normal response. “Nah,” he sighed, the bag with Steven’s donut still in his hand. “But it could still happen. Never know.”

“You’ll get in,” Steven said, earnest in a way only little kids could manage. “I know you will.” That was him, alright- trying to spread hope amongst others even when he was obviously so down himself.

Everyone knew Rose Quartz. She was kind of like everyone’s mom, in a way, because no matter who you were, she believed in you. She knew you were strong enough to overcome whatever trouble you had, but she also knew that sometimes, to be able to cope, people needed comfort, which she was always ready to provide. 

And she wasn’t just emotional support. She was a well-established scientist: the youngest professor of biology in the state, her love for all life spurring her on enough that she never seemed to stop achieving. She taught with careful consideration for the needs of each one of her students, making sure she was always understood, and kids always seemed to leave her lectures with a kind of unreal burst of inspiration. Her experiments were radical, as were her ideas, and she had won awards thanks to several of her books on human anatomy.

It was her work that caused the accident in the end- a thoughtless mix of chemicals left her choked and collapsed on the floor, and with nobody else around, she was unable to get help before it was too late. Her passing took a toll on the community as a whole, but none were more affected than those closest to her: her boyfriend and son.

And Lars was staring the latter in the face, and he had no idea what to say except for that which was scripted into his brain: as he handed over the bag, he said, “One double chocolate donut with sprinkles.” He paused. “Sir,” he added in a lame attempt to make Steven smile.

 

It worked, but that could easily have been Steven taking pity on him. Steven dug around in his pocket for a moment, his hand emerging with a couple of dollars a moment later, which he reached out, trying to press the bills into Lars’ hand.

“Nuh-uh, man,” Lars said, his heart instinctively hurting a little at the very idea of refusing money, but he wouldn’t feel right taking it. “On the house. Anything for our favourite customer.”

Steven smiled again, and this time it seemed a little more definitely genuine, but he wouldn’t meet Lars’ eyes. He wouldn’t connect, and seeing Steven isolate himself like that made Lars nervous. What was the world coming to if Steven, of all people, didn’t want meaningful human contact?

Steven put the money back in his pocket and took his donut. “Thanks, Lars,” he said. “Have a good day.” With that, he turned and started a slow wander to the door. 

Just before he got there, Lars couldn’t help but call out. “Hey, Steven?”

Steven turned around. “Yeah?”

Lars scratched at the back of his head- he hadn’t really thought as far ahead as to consider what to say, so he did something he never really let himself do: open his mouth without giving it thorough thought. “Uh, take care of yourself, alright?”

Steven nodded. “Thanks,” he said again, his smile falling as he walked out the door

*

Try as they might, neither Anxiety nor Happiness could yank Loneliness off the controls.

Loneliness had turned up on the day Steven’s mom died, and she was definitely a weird one. Whenever she wasn’t at the controls, nobody knew where she was- it was like she just disappeared into nothing when she wasn’t relevant. She hardly talked, her blue eyes always glazed over, misty like the blue-green gradient of the ocean Rose Quartz had loved so much.

“Yo! Loneliness! I know you’re having fun and all, but, uh, I think Steven’s feeling low enough without you right now, alright?” Happiness’ purple face was turning red with the effort of trying to pry Loneliness’ hands away from the buttons and levers. “So maybe you can let me drive now, huh?”

Anxiety glared. “Don’t listen to her,” she insisted, pacing back and forth with a quiet grace. “I should be in control, really. That encounter with Lars was risky enough, and Heaven only knows what’ll happen next.”

Fury and Patience exchanged a worried look, like Anxiety was finally getting into their heads.

There was a moment of silence. In unhappy defeat, Happiness unhanded Loneliness’ arm and just stood beside her, watching the screen. Anxiety continued to pace, not at all content with this kind of lack of control. 

*

Steven wasn’t really sure why he didn’t just go straight home. He knew he’d feel safer there, where he could read his mom’s books over again (he didn’t understand them, but he heard every word in her voice) and maybe get a hug from his dad and feel a little less alone.

Home could wait, he decided for some reason, a wave of static washing over him, blanking any rational wants. His eyes on the beach and his feet moving quickly towards it, he felt overwhelming solitude, and not a comforting sort.

*

It was Patience who noticed where they were going first. “Wait, where’s he going?” she asked, a note of panic seeping into her voice, her throat tight.

At the worry in her voice, Fury’s head snapped to the screen. “Loneliness!” she growled, as she realised as well. “What are you doing?”

Loneliness smiled for what must have been the first time since she arrived in Steven’s headspace. “We’re going to the beach.”

Anxiety spun around, even such a blatant display of shock seeming elegant and planned the way she did it. “That’s a terrible idea,” she muttered, her voice small.

“You can’t do that to him!” Fury said. “You know how much his mom loved the beach. He’ll break down!”

“It’s not just that,” Patience added. “He’s not been there since his father’s birthday. It’s such a loaded place.” She shook her head, dropped Fury’s hand and ran off. She returned moments later with a purple memory ball.

“Careful with that,” Happiness murmured.

Patience played the memory back, sort of hoping Steven would be conscious of it enough to remember he wasn’t ready to go to the beach again, whatever Loneliness thought.

*

_Dad danced across the shore, running in and chasing the tide, yelping when the cold water hit his toes._

_Mom chuckled softly, pushing up her glasses. “What are you doing?”_

_Steven followed his mother’s cue and laughed, startling a nearby seagull into flying away. Too lazy to get up, he crawled over to where his dad had left his guitar, and even though the instrument was a little big for his tiny self, he took it in his arms and played a gentle D chord._

_“Hey, that’s nice, Steven!” Dad shouted. As his son kept playing a simple chord progression, he walked back over, slipping into his flip flops again as he started to hum along._

_Mom joined in at that, and Steven looked at her, practically starry-eyed. “Sweet!” he cried. “We’re, like, a real band!”_

_Laughing, Mom broke out of her little melody. “Your father’s had some experience with being in a band. Perhaps this one will be more…potent than some of his past musical endeavours.”_

_Greg shot her a goofy smile. “Hey, say all you want, you can’t deny that you loved my mixtape.”_

_Mom smiled, absolutely sincere. “I still do.”_

_Dad looked up at Mom affectionately, and their hands met._

_Steven stood, struggling to carry the guitar and keep playing it, but his determination won out. He nudged into his mom’s side and laughed. “Dad’s old music was great!” he squealed in a genuine tone of admiration, moving his fingers and starting to play a different progression. He opened his mouth to sing. “I know I’m not that tall-”_

_“Hey!” Dad interrupted, his already-raw-with-sunburn face flushing even redder. “Hey, uh, how about we don’t sing that old stuff?”_

_Rose leant down and kissed him on the forehead. “On the subject of vans, perhaps I should buy you boys some ice-cream.”_

_Steven laid the guitar down with a happy gasp. “Yay ice-cream!” he shouted, punching the air, gaining the attention of a few smiling passers-by._

_His dad laughed. “Ice-cream sounds great, Rose.”_

_The three of them wandered off along the beach, laughing and holding hands, with Steven occasionally jumping and swinging, using his parents’ arms as support._

*

“Loneliness,” Patience pleaded as soon as the projected scene was over. “Don’t do this. He’s not ready.”

Anxiety kneaded her fingers together, her hair starting to rise in disarray as it always did when things were particularly bad. “He can’t handle this. You can’t do this, really, he needs time!”

Loneliness didn’t make a move, but said, “Mom was there. It’ll be like being with her again.”

Happiness moaned. “Oh my God, you’re gonna get him all bummed out! Do you want him to cry or something? ‘Cause we’re really not all about doing stuff like that to him here.”

“Mom was here,” Loneliness breathed, as beneath them, they heard the sound of Steven’s sandals crunching into the sand.

*

The memory was running through Steven’s head, and it drew him in. Maybe if he was on the beach he could feel like it was that day again. It was just as sunny, after all. The only difference was that this time he was alone, and he could remedy that by closing his eyes and pretending.

The ice-cream he’d got on that day was delicious. It was chocolate, like the donut he was chewing on. With connections like that, how hard could it be to recreate that day?

*

Patience brought Fury’s hand up over her eye. “I can’t watch,” she muttered, walking away and dragging the other emotion with her.

Anxiety was about to implode. “We need to get him to turn around,” she said to no-one in particular. “Loneliness is influencing him too much, a-and we can’t let her. We just need to get him home with Dad, and everything’ll be-”

“He’s going to cry,” Happiness whined, sat cross-legged on the floor with her hands running through her hair. “Man, you know I can’t take it when he cries! It makes me wanna…” She couldn’t finish her sentence, starting to sniffle.

Loneliness’ stillness was hypnotising.

*

It worked at first. The chocolatey glaze was just close enough to the ice-cream that he could get lost in his head and believe it was that day again, and Dad was still happy, and Mom was alive.

But the donut didn’t last forever, and when he swallowed the last of it, he suddenly regretted his decision to buy just one. His stomach clenched. Maybe it made no difference. After all, chocolate or no chocolate, it wasn’t the same thing.

He didn’t know what was happening. His head felt fuzzy, like he could keel over any moment. He opened his eyes, and finding himself standing alone on the beach, couldn’t stop his eyes from getting really wet.

He couldn’t distract himself because he couldn’t bring himself to care about anything but the distinct lack of his mom. Somewhere in the back of his head, a careful voice reminded him that he’d told Dad he’d only be out for five minutes. He’d be expecting him back, and he’d probably get really worried if he wasn’t home soon. Steven didn’t care, and that was saying something because Steven _always_ cared.

The ocean pulsated with waves, washing up so it was almost submerging Steven’s toes, then retreating right back in on himself. He remembered the way his dad had danced with the water, and how genuinely his mother had laughed. 

Weakly, he acknowledged that in any other situation, he would have his mother there to comfort him. But she was gone, and he couldn’t do anything. He covered his face as he started to cry, but his hands just couldn’t wipe away tears the same as Mom's could.


End file.
